Amber Howard plays an overzealous, fast-talking, straight-shooting Texas used-gun dealer in a skit called “Greater Tuna Radio.” (Bryan Mitchell / S&S)
RAF LAKENHEATH — Fortunately for the Lakenheath High School Drama Club, “Loadsa Laffs” lived up to its name. Directed by Melissa Roberts and Steve Kantor, “Loadsa Laffs” was an ensemble production of 19 students who performed 11 comedic episodes in two acts.
A handful of episodes fell flat due to stilted writing, poor delivery or forgettable characters reciting stale lines. But the majority of the episodes hit challenging comedic notes just right, leaving the audience in stitches.
The first act, in particular, was packed with skits that rang true but still provided the ridiculously exaggerated sense of reality essential to comedy. And, as is often the case in comic acting, the funniest takes sprung from the moments when the actors allowed silliness to supersede motivation.
Amber Howard nailed it as Dee-Dee, the fast-talking, outrageously immoral Texas used-gun dealer in “Greater Tuna Radio.”
“If Dee-Dee’s can’t kill it, it’s immortal,” she said.
In “Sure Thing,” Tristan Gooding and Miranda Fluhrer kept the audience rolling with what could have been a clichéd boy-meets-girl-in-coffee-shop skit that played with time, gender roles and literary expectations.
“I consider myself a citizen of the universe,” Gooding said in an effort to woo the pretentious Fluhrer.
Two of the skits pulled off a rare coup of comedy by achieving both laughs and introspection.
“Fairy Tale: Wal-Mart!” asked the audience to question the proliferation of the world’s largest retailer by pitting a typical American couple against the economic behemoth in a test of wills.
“Nobody screws with Wal-Mart,” the cast said in unison to close the skit.
The skit “English Made Simple,” meanwhile, delved into the true meaning of everyday utterances to unlock the secrets of human communication. The students may be only infants in the world of complex adult relationships, but they demonstrated aplomb in navigating the oft-daunting terrain of what is clearly more than everyday banter.
All told, “Loadsa Laffs” did well to live up to its moniker and proved that comedy is sometimes more likely to be found at the end of a $2 ticket to a high school library than at in an ill-conceived Hollywood flopbuster.